Jon Huer writes

THE SEDUCTION OF JOB: Twenty Years Later   


A Dramatic Poem

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Confronted by his wife Zorah, Job confesses.

ZORAH: 

O Job, my husband and the father of our children, 

You are not the man I knew not too long ago. 

Your silent sighs and dark countenance ever increasing, 

Your sleepless nights and restless days now countless, 

Your agonies and torments with the unseen evil 

Have not ceased and would not end upon my plea.   

You are a changed man, both old and new: 

The Job of old has become more of old Job, 

Thoughtful, loving and sweetly repentant, 

Immersed in prayer and silence, speaking only to God. 

But you have also turned into a new man, 

Desolate and fearful, agonizing and uncertain, 

Shut off from humanity and your loved ones, 

Silently brooding and wresting with the demon within.   

Sadness and melancholy are now your shadows, 

Following you wherever you cast your presence, 

And covering the ground with gloom and sorrow. 

Our household, once happy and content, is a graveyard 

Where laughter and mirth are no more heard, 

Because its master no longer laughs or jests, 

Where hush is its music, and silence its feast 

For fear of offending the master in his grieving.   

Insufferable as I am with your solitary torment, 

I can no longer endure it without cause. 

Upon God and His angels and beyond, 

Tell me, as you must, the source of this darkness‑‑ 

Which overshadows all that your soul touches. 

Also upon our lives together in happiness and suffering, 

Am I not part of my own husband's truth?  

JOB: 

O Zorah, my love, who is wholly unburdened 

By guilt or shame, crime or sin, man or God, 

Who gives all unasked, and loves all unreturned, 

Whose wisdom goes unheralded, whose piety unsung, 

And who comforts the afflicted with her heart and soul. 

O Zorah, can you bear the cruelty of truth?  

ZORAH: 

If I could not bear it, why should I ask? 

If my husband lived with it, would I not share?  

JOB: 

I stand between dishonor and poverty. 

The king has given me the choice 

For my wrongdoing in violation of the law 

Established to protect maids and servants. 

Now that you must know:  Bashana was my sin.  

ZORAH: 

O my Job, the man of piety and righteousness! 

Betraying his wife and the holy vow gravely taken, 

And in the sight of God and His angels! 

Why, my Job, who was blessed by the Lord, 

Who was the envy of all who knew or saw him? 

In God's name and all that is sacred, why?  

JOB: 

Zorah, my wife, I am naked and defenseless. 

My sin took away my shield so I cannot hide; 

My stupidity muddled my reason so I cannot explain; 

My impiety tied my tongue so heaven cannot hear me. 

I stand before your anger, trembling and helpless, 

But with enough of God's grace to say, "Forgive me."  

ZORAH: 

O Job, you fickle man, what have you lacked? 

Was I not always loyal to you, 

Standing by you in your trial with God? 

Did I ever lay my eyes on another man, 

Giving you reason for betrayal and treachery?  

JOB: 

Guilty as charged, I have ruined it all; 

Shame beyond words, I only wish to die‑‑ 

O how many times have I wished for it!  

ZORAH: 

Death is too easy for your sin, my Job. 

You broke my heart and trampled on my soul. 

My spirit is torn apart that cannot be repaired; 

I will cry eternally for my tattered life. 

What would they say about me at the marketplace; 

How shall I overcome the terror of the women's scorn?  

JOB: 

O Zorah, by the mercy of God is my love restored, 

In my heart that was blind to all but myself. 

Now all that heaven allows is in my soul, 

So that I can see God's grace in love. 

Upon Him I pledged my eternal love for you 

And I have not once strayed from it. 

I pray to God for His forgiveness and mercy 

And I appeal to you for yours, my love.  

ZORAH: 

O Job, a man for whom I praised the heavens, 

The sweetness of whose heart I admired, 

The depth of whose wisdom kept me enthralled, 

Who walked before God like no man alive‑‑ 

O how many stitches in the hands of angels 

Would it take to mend my heart in shreds; 

How much balm from heaven's own garden 

To wipe away all my tears of betrayal; 

And how many bright stars in the skies 

To show my trail back to trust and love again? 

Yes, Job, my love, I will bear the burden 

As you do yours in silence and prayer. 

I shall rejoice in the solemn sadness of penance. 

Would God ever be cruel like man, 

And not hear my desolate prayers? 

ZORAH TO SELF: 

O men, the strangest creatures on earth! 

So rigidly, so faithfully they adhere to God, 

Yet, without second thoughts do they betray their women!

In greatness they speak of the world and its order, 

Yet, in their heart is the fickleness of a scoundrel! 

Bravely they march to do battle for God, 

And endure hardships as saints and martyrs. 

But in their private deeds with women, 

Their endurance is as short as the winter's day, 

Their adherence as capricious as the swine's homecoming!   

O men, so incomprehensible, so contradictory! 

As God's soldiers and the king's men 

They may die rather than betray their cause; 

As husbands and loved ones to their women, 

Their commitment is as solid as the summer's fog 

And as reliable as the promise of an east wind.   

O Job, my man, so extreme and so onerous! 

You sinned like a feather flying in the breeze, 

Yet, like a fallen angel do you repent in weeping. 

If you sinned like a mortal man 

Why should you repent like God's prophet? 

What is the weight of your sin 

That you must lift the whole heavens to repent?   

O men, could you be reasonable like women?

 

Job and his Family -- William Blake

Job and his Daughters -- William Blake